hr.thecarpetbaggers-第3部分

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　gave　them　a　sense　of　identity　and　belonging　that　helped　make　up　for　the　meager　way　in　which　they　had　to　live。
　I　walked　past　the　mixing　vats；　the　presses　and　the　molds　and　reached　the　back　stairway　to　my　father's　office。　I　started　up　the　steps　and　looked　back　at　them。　A　hundred　faces　smiled　up　at　me。　I　waved　my　hand　and　smiled　back　at　them　in　the　same　way　I　had　always　done；　ever　since　I　first　climbed　those　steps　when　I　was　a　kid。
　I　went　through　the　door　at　the　top　of　the　stairway　and　the　noise　was　gone　as　soon　as　the　door　closed　behind　me。　I　walked　down　the　short　corridor　and　into　my　father's　outer　office。
　Denby　was　sitting　at　his　desk；　scribbling　a　note　in　his　usual　fluttery　fashion。　A　girl　sat　at　a　desk　across　from　him；　beating　hell　out　of　a　typewriter。　Two　other　persons　were　seated　on　the　visitor's　couch。　A　man　and　a　woman。
　The　woman　was　dressed　in　black　and　she　was　twisting　a　small　white　handkerchief　in　her　hands。　She　looked　up　at　me　as　I　stood　in　the　doorway。　I　didn't　have　to　be　told　who　she　was。　The　girl　looked　enough　like　her　mother。　I　met　her　eyes　and　she　turned　her　head　away。
　Denby　got　up　nervously。　〃Your　father's　waiting。〃
　I　didn't　answer。　He　opened　the　door　to　my　father's　office　and　I　walked　through。　He　closed　the　door　behind　me。　I　looked　around　the　office。
　Nevada　was　leaning　against　the　left　wall　bookcase；　his　eyes　half　closed　in　that　deceptive　manner　of　alertness　peculiar　to　him。　McAllister　was　seated　in　a　chair　across　from　my　father。　He　turned　his　head　to　look　at　me。　My　father　sat　behind　the　immense　old　oak　desk　and　glared。　Outside　of　that；　the　office　was　just　as　I　remembered　it。
　The　dark　oak…paneled　walls；　the　heavy　leather　chairs。　The　green　velvet　drapes　on　the　windows　and　the　picture　of　my　father　and　President　Wilson　on　the　wall　behind　the　desk。　At　my　father's　side　was　the　telephone　table　with　the　three　telephones　and　right　next　to　it　was　the　table　with　the　ever　present　carafe　of　water；　bottle　of　bourbon　whisky　and　two　glasses。　The　whisky　bottle　was　about　one…third　filled。　That　made　it　about　three　o'clock。　I　checked　my　watch。　It　was　ten　after　three。　My　father　was　a　bottle…a…day　man。
　I　crossed　the　office　and　stopped　in　front　of　him。　I　looked　down　and　met　his　angry　glare。　〃Hello；　Father。〃
　His　ruddy　face　grew　even　redder。　The　cords　on　his　neck　stood　out　as　he　shouted；　〃Is　that　all　you　got　to　say　after　ruining　a　day's　production　and　scaring　the　shit　out　of　half　the　help　with　your　crazy　stunts？〃
　〃Your　message　was　to　get　down　here　in　a　hurry。　I　got　here　as　quickly　as　I　could；　sir。〃
　But　there　was　no　stopping　him　now。　He　was　raging。　My　father　had　that　kind　of　a　temper。　One　moment　he　would　be　still　and　quiet；　and　the　next；　higher　than　a　kite。
　〃Why　the　hell　didn't　you　get　out　of　that　hotel　room　when　McAllister　told　you？　What　did　you　go　to　the　hospital　for？　Do　you　know　what　you've　done？　Left　yourself　wide　open　for　criminal　charges　as　an　acplice　abetting　an　abortion。〃
　I　was　angry　now。　I　had　every　bit　as　much　of　a　temper　as　my　father。　〃What　was　I　supposed　to　do？　The　girl　was　bleeding　to　death　and　afraid。　Was　I　supposed　to　just　walk　out　of　there　and　leave　her　to　die　alone？〃
　〃Yes。　If　you　had　any　brains　at　all；　that's　just　what　you'd　have　done。　The　girl　died；　anyway；　and　your　staying　there　didn't　make　any　difference。　Now　those　goddam　bastards　outside　want　twenty　thousand　dollars　or　they'll　call　for　the　police！　You　think　I've　got　twenty　thousand　dollars　for　every　bitch　you　plug？　This　is　the　third　girl　in　a　year　you　got　caught　with！〃
　It　didn't　make　any　difference　to　him　that　the　girl　had　died。　It　was　the　twenty　grand。　But　then　I　realized　it　wasn't　the　money；　either。　It　went　far　deeper　than　that。
　The　bitterness　that　had　crept　into　his　voice　was　the　tip…off。　I　looked　at　him　with　a　sudden　understanding。　My　father　was　getting　old　and　it　was　eating　out　his　gut。　Rina　must　have　been　at　him　again。　More　than　a　year　had　passed　since　the　big　wedding　in　Reno　and　nothing　had　happened。
　I　turned　and　started　for　the　door　without　speaking。　Father　yelled　after　me。　〃Where　do　you　think　you're　going？〃
　I　looked　back　at　him。　〃Back　to　L。A。　You　don't　need　me　to　make　up　your　mind。　You're　either　going　to　pay　them　off　or　you're　not。　It　doesn't　make　any　difference　to　me。　Besides；　I　got　a　date。〃
　He　came　around　the　desk　after　me。　〃What　for？〃　he　shouted。　〃To　knock　up　another　girl？〃
　I　faced　him　squarely。　I　had　enough　of　his　crap。　〃Stop　plaining；　old　man。　You　ought　to　be　glad　that　someone　in　your　family　still　has　balls。　Otherwise；　Rina　might　think　there　was　something　wrong　with　all　of　us！〃
　His　face　twisted　with　rage。　He　lifted　both　hands　as　if　to　strike　me。　His　lips　drew　back　tightly　across　his　teeth　in　a　snarl；　the　veins　in　his　forehead　stood　out　in　red；　angry　welts。　Then；　suddenly；　as　an　electric　switch　cuts　off　the　light；　all　expression　on　his　face　vanished。　He　staggered　and　pitched　forward　against　me。
　By　reflex；　my　arms　came　out　and　I　caught　him。　For　a　brief　moment；　his　eyes　were　clear；　looking　into　mine。　His　lips　moved。　〃Jonas　…　my　son。〃
　Then　his　eyes　clouded　and　his　full　weight　came　on　me　and　he　slid　to　the　floor。　I　looked　down　at　him。　I　knew　he　was　dead　even　before　Nevada　rolled　him　over　and　tore　open　his　shirt。
　Nevada　was　kneeling　on　the　floor　beside　my　father's　body；　McAllister　was　on　the　telephone　calling　for　a　doctor　and　I　was　picking　up　the　bottle　of　Jack　Daniel's　when　Denby　came　in　through　the　door。
　He　shrank　back　against　the　door；　the　papers　in　his　hand　trembling。　〃My　God；　Junior；〃　he　said　in　a　horrified　voice。　His　eyes　lifted　from　the　floor　to　me。　〃Who's　going　to　sign　the　German　contracts？〃
　I　glanced　over　at　McAllister。　He　nodded　imperceptibly。　〃I　am；〃　I　answered。
　Down　on　the　floor；　Nevada　was　closing　my　father's　eyes。　I　put　down　the　bottle　of　whisky　unopened　and　looked　back　at　Denby。
　〃And　stop　calling　me　Junior；〃　I　said。
　
　4
　
　BY　THE　TIME　THE　DOCTOR　CAME；　WE　HAD　LIFTED　my　father's　body　to　the　couch　and　covered　it　with　a　blanket。　The　doctor　was　a　thin；　sturdy　man；　bald；　with　thick　glasses。　He　lifted　the　blanket　and　looked。　He　dropped　the　blanket。　〃He's　dead；　all　right。〃
　I　didn't　speak。　It　was　McAllister　who　asked　the　question　while　I　swung　to　and　fro　in　my　father's　chair。　〃Why？〃
　The　doctor　came　toward　the　desk。　〃Encephalic　embolism。　Stroke。　Blood　clot　hit　the　brain；　from　the　looks　of　him。〃　He　looked　at　me。　〃You　can　be　thankful　it　was　quick。　He　didn't　suffer。〃
　It　was　certainly　quick。　One　minute　my　father　was　alive；　the　next　moment　he　was　nothing；　without　even　the　power　to　brush　off　the　curious　fly　that　was　crawling　over　the　edge　of　the　blanket　onto　his　covered　face。　I　didn't　speak。
　The　doctor　sat　down　heavily　in　the　chair　opposite　me。　He　took　out　a　pen　and　a　sheet　of　paper。　He　laid　the　paper　on　the　desk。　Upside　down；　I　could　read　the　heading　across　the　top　in　bold　type。　DEATH　CERTIFICATE。　The　pen　began　to　scratch　across　the　paper。　After　a　moment；　he　looked　up。　〃O。K。　if　I　put　down　embolism　as　the　cause　of　death　or　do　you　want　an　autopsy？〃
　I　shook　my　head。　〃Embolism's　O。K。　An　autopsy　wouldn't　make　any　difference　now。〃
　The　doctor　wrote　again。　A　moment　later；　he　had　finished　and　he　pushed　the　certificate　over　to　me。　〃Check　it　over　and　see　if　I　got　everything　right。〃
　I　picked　it　up。　He　had　everything　right。　Pretty　good　for　a　doctor　who　had　never　seen　any　of　us　before　today。　But　everybody　in　Nevada　knew　everything　about　the　Cords。　Age　67。　Survivors：　Wife；　Rina　Marlowe　Cord；　Son；　Jonas　Cord；　Jr。　I　slid　it　back　across　the　desk　to　him。　〃It's　all　right。〃
　He　picked　it　up　and　got　to　his　feet。　〃I'll　file　it　and　have　my　girl　send　you　copies。〃　He　stood　there　hesitantly；　as　if　trying　to　make　up　his　mind　as　to　whether　he　should　offer　some　expression　of　sympathy。　Evidently；　he　decided　against　it；　for　he　went　out　the　door　without　another　word。
　Then　Denby　came　in　again。　〃What　about　those　people　outside？　Shall　I　send　them　away？〃
　I　shook　my　head。　They'd　only　e　back　again。　〃Send　them　in。〃
　They　came　in　the　door；　the　girl's　father　and　mother；　their　faces　wearing　a　fixed　expression　that　was　a　strange　mixture　of　grief　and　sympathy。
　Her　father　looked　at　me。　〃I'm　sorry　we　couldn't　meet　under　happier　circumstances；　Mr。　Cord。〃
　I　looked　at　him。　The　man'